


I didn't want you to see this

by midnightmillie



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Aftermath, As well as of Hilda and Zelda, As well as of Nicholas Scratch, F/M, Mentions of Ambrose, Sabrina's thoughts on killing thirteen witches, Tumblr Prompt, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 07:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17720861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightmillie/pseuds/midnightmillie
Summary: Hellfire didn't cause blistering skin or red, sore patches. It latched onto the soul instead, burning every joyous memory agonizingly slowly until the owner of the body was drowned in their own consuming agony.And Sabrina Spellman had single-handedly murdered thirteen witches, vowing them to suffer in ways she couldn't begin to imagine.





	I didn't want you to see this

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a tumblr prompt (and it took so long, I'm so sorry). The minute I saw "I didn't want you to see this" in my inbox I imagined the first scene and the rest is right here. Huge thank you to leah-on-the-offbeat for the amazing editing work.

  She traced the outlines of the dead body in front of her, fingers trembling as they reached the collar of the cloak. A strand of hair brushed against her palm and she quickly found her way up, eyes locked on the witch’s terrified expression. It was just the first one, really. There were twelve more piles of burned limbs and lifeless faces.

  Hellfire was a thrilling, but monstrous, concept that Sabrina had heard of before, once or twice, in the halls of the Academy of The Unseen Arts. In a typical high school, the older students threatened the weaker ones with beating or badgered them for money. The worst she had seen were the mindless boys from the baseball team, who forcefully undressed Susie - a mistake that nearly cost them their sanity. But the students of witchery had a whole new arsenal of torture techniques to brag with, despite rarely using them. Hellfire didn't cause blistering skin or red, sore patches. It latched onto the soul instead, burning every joyous memory agonizingly slowly until the owner of the body was drowned in their own consuming agony.

  And she had single-handedly murdered thirteen witches, vowing them to suffer in ways she couldn't begin to imagine. Ms Wardwell had said that it was the only way and Sabrina had believed her. She had let the images of what could happen to her family guide her through a ritual she despised. Finally, after selling her soul to Satan she had summoned the deadly blue flames. The superior feeling that the spell provided wore off seconds after she heard the first screams and pleas for mercy, and she forced herself to turn her back to the tree and swallow the pleas along with her salty tears. After the screams stopped and the flames melted away, she had asked Miss Wardwell to leave her alone at the forest and ensure that her aunties and Ambrose were alive.

  But now that Sabrina was alone, she was unsure of what to do. There wasn't anyone to guide her through something like this and she wondered if the reason was that simply no one had made such wrong decisions before. She couldn't imagine her mortal mother helping her to dig the graves, but Sabrina suspected that her father might have understood. He had been known to love his family endlessly and she found comfort in the idea that he might have done the same to protect it. Maybe if she hadn't interrupted her Dark Baptism none of this would have happened. But despite Ambrose scolding her for erasing the lines and drawing her own, a part of her believed that she could shape her own destiny and find a new path. So, she kneeled before the bodies of thirteen witches, begged forgiveness of each of them and straightened the folds in their clothes. Her hands were shaking more with each body, but she kept on going, despite the headache, her own bruises and the mess her thoughts were tangled in.

  She was on the tenth witch, when a familiar ‘Brina’?!’ startled her and she felt chills up and down her spine. How could she possibly explain to Harvey Kinkle that she’d just killed thirteen women in order to protect the whole town, but most of all him? This was exactly the kind of ‘help’ he had refused from the day he found out that she was a witch. And now he was at her very own crime scene, standing a couple of feet away from her.

  She was on the tenth witch, when a familiar ‘ _Brina’?!_ ’ startled her and she felt chills up and down her spine. How could she possibly explain to Harvey Kinkle that she’d just killed thirteen women in order to protect the whole town, but most of all him? This was exactly the kind of ‘help’ he had refused from the day he found out that she was a witch. And now he was at her very own crime scene, standing a couple of feet away from her.

_He doesn't understand and he never will, but you did what you had to do. That was the only way_ was what she thought to herself.

“I didn't want you to see this.” was what came out of her mouth.

  She was desperately trying to find something distracting in the dead body in front of her, a fold to strengthen or a limb to cover, when she heard slow, careful steps approaching her. He was going to stand behind her and see the witch’s face, twisted with horror and Sabrina wasn't going to even be able to explain what she had done – because she had sucked every ounce of happiness from the witch. So, she stroked the woman’s hair over her face and stood up on shaking feet.

“Don’t come any closer.” she warned. “Because if you do, you will never be able to look at me again.”

  Harvey swallowed, his gaze nervously jumping from Sabrina to the dead body behind her. When he had insisted for Nick to tell him what was going on, he had mentioned something about witches threatening to soak the town into an apocalyptic terror. Harvey had almost felt it in his bones as his door began to rattle.

“Don’t you… have a whole pack of witches to help you with this?” he winced, mentally cursing himself for not being able to find better words. She wasn't a wolf and that wasn't a pack. He hoped she’d confirm and tell him that she hadn't single-handedly slaughtered these women, because he couldn't imagine how that had felt like, but she shook her head instead.

“The rest of the coven is safe in the Academy, they didn't…” she stopped mid-sentence and sighed, before continuing, “ they didn't really think that the mortals deserve any protection. Not even after I begged for their help.”

“So… they left you alone, knowing that you could die?” Harvey whispered, his eyes shining with the same spite that was filling his lungs. “And even if you didn't, that you’d have to carry the burden of killing someone on your shoulders for life?”

“I…”

“’Brina, I couldn't kill a deer! I couldn't kill a stupid deer and I still see his stupid stuffed head every time I fall asleep. How are you supposed to deal with this?” Harvey took a step closer to her as if she was a wounded animal that he was trying not to scare.

“It’s not…” Sabrina tried to counter, but her air turned into white fog as soon as it escaped her lips. She tried to wrap aunt Hilda’s coat tighter around her waist, but the wind was finding its way through the gaps in the sleeves.

“Stop acting like this is normal and you’re supposed to be able to handle it!” Harvey took a quick few steps but stopped as soon as she flinched. Then he changed his tone, replacing it with a gentler one “You shouldn't have had to face this alone!”

  Sabrina fell on her knees, tears still sliding down her cheeks. She reached a hand and pulled on the crimson red ribbon in her hair roughly, in an attempt to take it off. It did nothing to soothe the headache.

“Then why did you leave me?” she whispered, before she could stop the words. Harvey wasn't the one to blame, not when she had a family of witches and an entire coven. Aunt Zelda and Ambrose had disappeared at some point after they had cast the spell in the corridors of Baxter High and she was left alone with aunt Hilda. Salem had been by her side, but there is only so much a forest goblin can do. She was glad that Harvey was far away, protected by one of the most skillful warlocks of the Academy. She wasn't going to blame him for refusing to face a reality that he shouldn't have ever been a part of.

  Harvey couldn't answer. He didn't know. He supposed he was too scared. There was the feeling of feeling unworthy, as well. When he saw Nick Scratch for the first time and the warlock had hinted at his feelings for Sabrina, Harvey thought he might throw up right there, rifle in hand.

  But as Sabrina was kneeling on the cold grass, shaking uncontrollably because _he_ didn't choose _her_ the whole situation seemed absurd to him. She was everything Harvey had ever wanted, and he walked over to her. He kneeled before her, trying hard not to focus on the thirteen bodies behind them.

“Let’s go home, ‘Brina…” he whispered as he raised a hand to move strands of hair away from her blue lips. He gently took both sides of aunt Hilda’s coat and pulled it tighter, fastening the buttons one by one. He saw the uncertainty in her eyes, but he pulled her closer.

“I’ll help you in the morning.” He stated, as if he was talking about difficult math homework and not digging graves. Then he got up, gently pulling her up as well and he extended a hand across her still shaking frame, guiding her out of the forest by the familiar path that led to his house. Neither said anything while they were fumbling through the darkness and Harvey held Sabrina close to him, occasionally pressing a kiss on her forehead.

  Once inside, Harvey asked Sabrina to take the stairs to his room and he stormed off to the kitchen, pushing the kettle button on as if it personally offended him. Finding a mug was relatively easy but given his dad’s current behavior everything Harvey could find in the kitchen cupboards was alcohol. And lots of it. In one of the drawers, however, he noticed a nearly crushed familiar brown box. Harvey reached and opened it, finding one last bag of peppermint tea in it. With a thankful sigh, he placed it in the mug on the counter.

“Here” Harvey whispered as he handed the steaming mug to Sabrina. He reached for the blanket on his counter and carefully wrapped it around her. He didn’t know what to say and he cursed himself for not being able to provide her with this comfort. Words weren't a form of art he was particularly skilled at. But as Sabrina was just sitting on the corner of his bed, staring at the mug in her hands he felt like he had to say something.

“You don’t really need to.” She spoke softly, before he had even opened his mouth. She looked up from the mug and stared at him with warm, brown eyes.

“I’m not a mind-reader, Harvey. You just have that wrinkle on your forehead when you don’t know what to say.” she reached and gently flattened the wrinkle in question, her cold hand causing shivers to jump up and down his spine. Instead of flinching, Harvey quickly grabbed her wrist and enveloped her hand in his own in an attempt to warm it up. Her lips were still somewhat blue, but her cheeks had gotten red from the tea.

“I guess I just don’t really know what to say” he sighed “I don’t know what you did and how you did it and I’m not sure I want to know, because I’m definitely not as strong as you. You did something to protect this town and I felt it, but I’m not Nick, Sabrina. I don’t know how to help.”

“But you already did, Harvey.” She simply smiled. “You showed me that what I did was worth it. And… you came for me” she whispered, incredulously.

“Of course I came, what else am I supposed to do? I’ll always come around, ‘Brina, no matter what. That I can promise.”

  And that was the last thing either of them said this evening. Harvey rearranged the pillows on his bed and Sabrina snuggled against his side as he picked up art supplies and drew a comic about a girl who had to save the world. He managed to take the awful visions and turn them into a fairytale and Sabrina felt the burden in her chest lessen with every stroke of the pencil against the sketchbook. As her vision began to blur she thought that Harvey could never cure what she had done tonight, but he _came_ for her afterwards and made sure that she was okay. He made her tea and tucked her in bed. He kissed the nightmares away and held her closer every time she started trembling. That night, Sabrina realized that love wasn't Harvey knowing every gory detail or understanding every potion. Love was him, picking her up after all that she had done and loving her, nevertheless.

 


End file.
